


Ate My Heart

by eprime



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eprime/pseuds/eprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami demonstrates that they've only begun to scratch the surface of what's between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (A one-shot set sometime post the last chapter of Pray in the Abyss).

"Asami, the guys invited me out tonight."

Akihito carefully cleaned the lens of his camera and tried to look nonchalant as he shot a glance over his shoulder. Asami was sitting at the table, absorbed in the paper. He made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn't raise his eyes from his reading.

"Yeah," Akihito said brightly. "A new club opened recently that's apparently really hot right now. There's an invite only event tonight, but Kou somehow got on this list. He knows the DJ or something, I'm not sure on the details. But anyway, he got us invites, so..."

"Have fun," Asami said, still seemingly engrossed in the newspaper.

Akihito frowned. This was decidedly odd. He put down the camera he was servicing and carefully scrutinized Asami. He looked the same as always; gorgeous, self-possessed and impeccably turned out.

"So..." Akihito drew out the word, hating himself for sounding so hesitant. "It's okay?"

Asami turned the page, still not taking his eyes from the paper. "Are you asking my permission?"

"Hell no!" Akihito scowled and stood up in a huff. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all."

Ever since a rumored threat against Akihito, Asami had both upped his security detail and "kindly requested" that Akihito be sensible in his choices of where to spend both his work and free time until Asami was able to determine the seriousness of the situation.

Akihito had mostly complied, but he was well sick of it. He wasn't convinced the rumor had any truth to it whatsoever, but he had to admit Asami wasn't usually given to controlling his every movement under normal circumstances--not outside of bed anyway.

"Um, so is that situation...handled?"

Asami did look up over the edge of the paper then, only his very amused eyes showing. "I told you before that everything is under control. Be patient a little longer and things can go back to normal."

That made Akihito mutter, "As if things are ever normal around here." He stalked over to Asami and crossed his arms. "Why aren't you making a fuss then? You keep telling me that nightclubs are a security nightmare. Why are you okay with--" Akihito's eyes narrowed.

Asami lowered the paper and smirked.

"This is _your_ club?! I should've known."

"I know you've been chafing at all the precautions lately. You've been such a good boy about it for once, I wanted to reward you."

"You really are something else." Akihito jabbed his finger into Asami's chest. "I'm not a kid, so stop with the good boy crap."

An abrupt tug sent Akihito sprawling into Asami's lap. Asami's voice rumbled in his ear. "Oh, you can be very good when you want to be."

Akihito bit his lip as hot breath fluttered against the sensitive spot low on his throat. In what he knew was a futile effort to play hard to get, he pulled away a little, planting his palms on Asami's chest and looking him in the eye.

"I thought you didn't bother with clubs like that. Don't you usually stick to stuck up and stodgy places like Sion, where old perverts like you with too much money hang out?"

"Sometimes they cater to young perverts with too much money. You should know after nosing around Dolasena, isn't that right, Akihito?"

Akihito blushed under Asami's amused gaze.

"Whatever."

Asami laughed. "Don't worry. The manager of this club isn't my type at all, so there's no need for you to get jealous."

He was never going to live that embarrassing episode down, when Asami had figured out that Akihito had seen him and the young manager from Dolasena together and had imagined all sorts of things between them. Asami had been highly amused, not to mention rather smug, the bastard.

" _You_ just might be the one to get jealous tonight, Asami."

"Is that so?" An eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Are you planning on any specific course of action to make that happen?"

"No! But I'm a good dancer, and I just bought a pair of jeans that makes my ass look great, so you'd better watch out."

"Your ass always looks great, especially when it's thrust up in the air and you're on your elbows and knees, begging me to fuck you into the mattress."

One of Asami's hands slipped into the back of his jeans and squeezed. Akihito's cock twitched, but he only shook his head and sighed.

"You're so predictable."

Asami's eyes dropped to Akihito's crotch and he smirked. "As are you."

Akihito went pink again, but he straddled Asami and leaned in, taking great delight in ruffling Asami's perfectly groomed hair as he tangled his fingers in it. "You need to take responsibility."

"Do I?" His warm breath caressed Akihito's face. "And how would you have me do that?"

"Well..." Akihito's tongue darted out, lapping at Asami's full lower lip. "Maybe you should make me remember why I should come home to you tonight instead of--" A pained sound, halfway between a moan and a cry, escaped him as Asami sunk his teeth at the junction of his shoulder and throat.

Akihito's fingers tightened in Asami's hair even as his neck arched in pleasurable submission.

"Oh, I'll make you remember, all right." The low, rich baritone of Asami's voice vibrated against his skin, sending electric shivers down his spine. "I'll make it so you can think of nothing else. Every twist of your hips, every sway of your cute little ass, every move you make, will remind you just where you belong and to whom."

Fuck, but those words went straight to his cock, and Akihito tugged Asami's face up and kissed him hard, licking his way inside Asami's mouth and moaning as his tongue was sucked hard enough to draw him up off his knees. He was gasping when Asami finally let him up for air and proceeded to cup Akihito's ass, lifting him higher so he could suck and bite at his nipples through the fabric of his thin t-shirt.

"Every person in that club, man and woman alike, will be able to smell my scent all over you when I'm done with you."

Akihito moaned.

"Maybe I'll leave you with my come dripping down your thighs before you pull on those new jeans you're so proud of. Or I could plug you up, keep you that way all night so that you'll remember every second what it feels like to be filled up with me. And when you come home to me--and there's no question at all that that's exactly what you'll do, is there, Akihito?--you'll be loose and slick for me. No need for preliminaries. I'll just rip it out of you and fuck you right up against the wall before you even have time to take off your shoes."

Fuck. Asami was trying to kill him. The hot flush that suffused his face and body was only partly from the embarrassment the lewd words elicited. He was so turned on he could barely breathe or think. The idea of Asami doing something like that should _really_ be disturbing on some level, and yet it make Akihito so fucking hot that he couldn't stand it.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Ryuichi," Akihito managed to retort, and then he hissed as Asami bit down hard on one nipple.

"That's what I love about you, Akihito. Your eagerness to play with fire."

His world spun as he was upended over Asami's shoulder, body jolted by Asami's quick strides to the bedroom. Instead of being flung on the bed like Akihito expected, he heard the door to the hidden room open.

Oh, shit. He hadn't been in there since Asami had punished him for throwing out his antique guns. The breath was knocked out of him when he hit the bed of _this_ room with a heavy thump.

"Strip."

Asami's simple command made heat pool low in his belly, but it wouldn't be playing the game if Akihito complied so easily. He let his eyes narrow in challenge.

Asami was on him so suddenly he gasped; his shirt ripped away like it was nothing, and his jeans jerked off his hips and legs with a few forceful tugs. Down to his briefs, Akihito found himself up close and personal with his lover, caged by strong arms and staring into eyes that were flickering with a feral playfulness. His heart was pounding so wildly, Akihito thought it might beat right through his chest.

"Now, do you want to take the rest off yourself, or shall I teach you why people ask how high when I tell them to jump?"

Though the words were filled with a certain dark humor, Akihito could feel the aura of potential danger rolling off Asami in invisible waves that made all Akihito's senses tingle with both apprehension and anticipation.

He must've taken too long to answer because he could feel the muscles in Asami's body coil. The golden eyes darkened, and Akihito sucked in a breath, hastily wriggling out of his underwear as best he could with Asami looming over him.

A mouth lowered to his ear. "Wise choice." Dark amusement dripped from Asami's voice. Then his teeth grazed down the side of Akihito's neck. He sucked a light kiss there, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make Akihito bite his lip in pleasure.

"Now," Asami's warm breath moistened his skin. "Raise your arms over your head and clasp your fingers together."

Akihito's arms slid across the silk sheets, his body stretching out beneath Asami. The fabric of Asami's shirt brushed against his nipples, creating an aching tension that spiraled all the way down to his cock.

"Good boy," Asami murmured. "Show me that sexy look I love so much."

Akihito glared.

"Yes." Asami's low laugh rumbled over him. "That's the one."

Akihito opened his mouth to retort, but Asami's fingers slipped between his parted lips, pressing lightly on his tongue.

"Shh." He reached between Akihito's legs with his free hand and cupped his balls. "I don't want to gag you just yet."

Pressing his heels hard against the bed, Akihito managed not to arch up into the touch, but Asami smiled knowingly anyway.

"You want me to take you, don't you, Akihito?" One finger teased back along delicate skin, pressing between the crease of his ass and circling the furled opening lightly. "You want me here."

Oh, God, he did. He wanted it so much. Still, only the bare tip of a finger worked him open, dipping in and out with shallow, tiny thrusts that made him whimper, his tongue flexing around the fingers still in his mouth.

"You're always so eager, so lewd, even when you're playing at defiance. Your body never lies."

Heat bloomed across his cheekbones, but Akihito couldn't look away from that keen gaze that flayed him open as easily as a scalpel to expose all the things he tried to keep hidden.

"My Akihito wants this, doesn't he? All of me? Everything that only I can give him?"

He shuddered, his tongue curling around Asami's fingers with helpless need and sucking them in them deep; a silent appeal to the man playing him so expertly.

Asami breathed out a long sigh of satisfaction. "Ah, you are being so very good today. How can I not reward that?"

Akihito tensed in expectation, but confusingly, Asami pulled away, fingers first and then body. Moving with a slow, deliberate pace, Asami went to the display case on the wall and laid out a selection of leather and metal that made Akihito's mouth go dry.

Gently, almost reverently, the cuffs were buckled around Akihito's wrists and then his ankles. Akihito was pulled to his knees, Asami's deft fingers fastening a wide, leather collar around his neck. They slid into his hair next, pulling his head back and allowing Asami to take in his wide, dilated eyes.

Whatever he saw made Asami smile. He tugged Akihito off the bed by the round metal ring dangling from the front of the collar, and placed the rich, black harness across Akihito's chest. The buckles were tightened until his breathing was restricted just enough to make him aware of the subtle control.

Only then did Asami pull him back against his chest and slide a hand down Akihito's stomach to ghost over his neglected erection. "This won't do."

Akihito's eyebrows drew together. "What do you mea--ahhh..." His words broke off as Asami began to stroke him firmly. One firm hand on his chest held Akihito still, while the other worked him to a quick and dirty climax that left him panting, coursing with endorphins, and bewildered.

While he was still recovering, Asami bound his wrists to chains that extended from the ceiling.

" _Now_ this will go on nicely."

Asami held what looked like a leather g-string, only the front was adorned with a cage of metal rings. Oh, fuck. Asami had tried out practically everything else on him, but he'd never used _that_ on him. He eyed it with a mix of emotions he really didn't want to analyze.

"Asa--"

"Shh..." A finger tipped his chin up. "Don't speak. Make any other noises you want, but don't speak. Otherwise I _will_ gag that pretty little mouth of yours."

Akihito bit his lip, allowing Asami to slip the thing up his legs and adjust it snugly. Then, his spent cock was carefully worked into the cage of rings, already throbbing and beginning to thicken a bit at the brief touch.

Asami stepped away and took a long look. It was almost excruciating to be so exposed, bound up and decorated in such a way, especially when Asami was still fully clothed and regarding him with such intent hunger.

He couldn't hold Asami's gaze for long, and he felt the heat rush to his face. Involuntarily, his wrists tested his shackles in an unconscious attempt to cover himself.

"I know every inch of you, Akihito. You can't hide from me. You shouldn't try."

A soft, whirring sound startled Akihito, and when he raised his eyes again he was faced with a large, full-length mirror on the wall in front of him. Once again, Asami moved behind him, fingers skimming over Akihito's nipples, teasing them until they were hard and sensitive and Akihito's head lolled back onto his shoulder.

His cock was swelling now, frustratingly not able to achieve full hardness, but constricted in a delicious, agonizing way that balanced along the line between pain and pleasure.

"Beautiful." Asami's murmur vibrated against his throat, and Akihito squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look upon the lewd picture he must present.

Of course, Asami wouldn't allow that. "Open your eyes."

He pressed closer, and Akihito felt proof of Asami's own arousal, hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers.

"Akihito."

The word was a warning, and Akihito forced himself to look into the mirror, locking onto Asami's golden eyes as he rested his chin on Akihito's shoulder. The look in them made him shiver.

"Have you ever wondered why I haven't made more use of this room and its toys with you?"

Akihito shook his head.

"No? Well, I'll tell you."

While Asami spoke, his hands moved ceaselessly, roaming over Akihito's skin, seeking out every erogenous zone that he knew so well, earning soft gasps and moans despite Akihito's efforts to contain them.

"Just look at you." He sighed deeply. "Your skin so soft and fine, so pale against the dark leather. Bound up like this--for me--you look like an offering. Poor Akihito." His smile was dark and wicked. "A sacrifice for a sinful God."

If he dared talk, Akihito might have made a snide comment about Asami comparing himself to a God, but, in truth, he could only think that it was a frighteningly accurate depiction of the way he felt.

"Seeing you like this, well, it makes me want to _do_ things to you, my sweet Akihito." Asami smiled again, and even in his reflected image Akihito could see the swirling undercurrents of primal emotion that lit that possessive gaze. "Things you haven't even begun to imagine."

A surge of lust and adrenaline made his knees go weak. This is what he could never resist about Asami, everything was always dancing that knife-edge of potential and utterly addicting danger.

"You look so fragile like this, such a contradiction to that stubborn will of yours. I want to see how far I can push you. How far you'll let me take you. I want to mark that fine skin, bruise and bite and flay you open until your soul wells up like a fountain, and I'll dip my hands into it, let it run through my fingers as I drink deep again and again."

Oh, how his cock ached, throbbing so hard within it's cage, matching the pounding thud of his heart. Akihito moaned, a supplication. Arms tightened almost unbearably around him and those penetrating eyes closed as Asami sighed again, his cheek resting against Akihito's. "Ah, you mustn't tempt me, Akihito. Even my self-control goes only so far."

Without thinking, Akihito opened his mouth--to say what, he wasn't sure, maybe to plead--but he caught himself in time, and instead, twisted to press hot, desperate kisses against Asami's jaw. Fingers dug into his hips with bruising strength, and then Asami's mouth covered his, making Akihito spill a litany of moans and whimpers that he blushed to hear.

Just as suddenly, Asami pulled away, his reflection a little wilder and discomposed than before. "No. I don't know _what_ I might do if I let myself start now. You certainly wouldn't be fit to go anywhere else tonight."

Uncaring, shameless now, Akihito met his eyes in the mirror, arching back against Asami with feverish need, brushing the heated erection he could feel against his ass. He was rewarded with a gasp, but those implacable hands held his hips still and Akihito cried out in frustration.

"Shh...listen. Will do you something for me?"

The wild light was still flickering in Asami's eyes, and Akihito was caught by it, every nerve in his body thrumming to the wavelength of energy Asami was emitting. He nodded, frantically, willing to agree to anything if Asami would just touch him. He could do anything he wanted if he just wouldn't stop.

"Wear this for me." His fingers danced along the rings that circled Akihito's cock. "Tonight at the club. Under your jeans. Wear it for me."

Akihito's eyes went wide. He couldn't be serious. He wanted to protest. What if it was noticeable? Could he even function like that? What if--then Asami's fingers slick with gel had nudged the thin, leather strip between his ass aside and pushed inside him, opening him up with rough haste, and he couldn't think anymore.

His thighs were spread wider, and the blunt head of Asami's cock pushed up and into him. Akihito groaned as his body adjusted to the invasion, the burn of it sending his own arousal higher, frustratingly so as the hard metal of the rings restrained him. But it was so good. Those sounds really couldn't be coming from him, could they? Asami took him hard in front of the mirror, never once looking away, even as he emptied himself inside Akihito, and the furious beating of his heart reverberated through Akihito's back.

"Please, oh please, Asami." Akihito was past any coherent thought or ability to obey the order to stay mute. " _Please_."

"Shh..." Soothingly, Asami whispered soft words in his ear, hands stroking over his chest and belly slowly, attempting to calm him. "Do this for me. Wear this. Bear it."

Akihito whimpered.

"Be patient for me, and tonight..."

Tonight. Akihito trembled, all his muscles taut and quivering with the strain of his arousal. Tonight was a thousand years away. He mustered up a glare, and the corners of Asami's mouth curved up in a sharp, dangerous smile.

"And tonight, I'll devour your body, heart, and soul, my little sacrifice. And you'll die in ecstasy."

Heaven help him, but he didn't doubt the truth of it. What's more, he truly couldn't wait to offer himself up on that altar of Asami's making. And Asami would be impossible after this, even more smug and arrogant and pleased with himself than usual, if that were even possible.

 _But_ he would get mind-blowing sex. He couldn't even imagine what Asami would do to him, and that was part of the dark appeal, wasn't it? That feral light in his eyes--Akihito shivered again, electrified by the potent reminder that there was nothing tame about his lover. Really, there was only one answer he could give.

Akihito straightend his shoulders, chin lifting as he met eyes that darkened with pride and approval, and he nodded.


	2. Thin Line Between Love and Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami and Akihito come to a deeper understanding.

Akihito had been well aware of the subtle deference which had been paid to him all evening. It certainly wasn't the kind of treatment he was accustomed to receiving, not when he wasn't with Asami at any rate. On the one hand, it pissed him off because he knew it had nothing to do with his own merits and everything to do with Asami's and the fact that the employees of the club had most likely received explicit instructions on just how to handle him. On the other hand, Kou's delight in the face of it was a pleasure to see. Akihito certainly couldn't begrudge him that, especially as his friend didn't realize that Asami had engineered the whole evening. Kou and the others were simply flying high on the kick of being treated like VIPs in one of the hottest Tokyo night spots of the moment. 

Moreover, if Akihito was being completely honest with himself, it _was_ somewhat gratifying to be on the receiving end of such solicitous service after all the barbs flung at him from the various people surrounding Asami. No matter what _they_ thought, Asami felt differently. Deep down, he knew this was just one of the ways that Asami expressed the value that Akihito held for him. A warmth filled him at the thought and he smiled a little, leaning on the rail that overlooked the main dance floor. 

Shit. His hands tightened around the cool metal. He'd done it again. Thinking too much about Asami was _such_ a bad idea right now. He breathed in and out slowly several times until the aching throb between his legs diminished enough that he could straighten up and curse Asami one more time for convincing him to wear a freaking, sadistic _cock cage_ out in public. What had he been thinking?

Behind his slight sulk, Akihito remembered very well what he'd been thinking, or rather that he hadn't been thinking much at all. Asami with his damnably smooth, sexy voice and insidious words murmured from that oh so sinful mouth. Besides, he defied anyone to be able to think clearly with Asami's big dick buried up their ass. 

Dammit! He'd done it again. Akihito whimpered, happy the blare of the music made it impossible for anyone to hear his distress.

Dancing. That was the answer. He'd dance some more and take his mind off the evil bastard for a while. A quick recall of something unpleasant--that politician with the huge face who'd wanted to lick him--ugh, yeah, that did it. He caught sight of some of his friends on the dance floor and grinned. Yoshida's hopeless attempt to actually move to the beat made him snicker.

He made his way down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to accept a shot glass from a tray the beautiful server managed to maneuver expertly through the throng. He tossed it back, enjoying the hot slide of alcohol down his throat. Ridding himself of the glass, he threaded adroitly through the crowd of moving bodies and grinned when he joined his boys. Kou was dancing closely with a very attractive girl and looking completely stoked by his good fortune. Takato, obedient husband that he was, was dancing alone, near Yoshida, and he laughed as Akihito came up behind Yoshida and started mimicking his movements.

"Oi!" Yoshida whirled around and laughed good-naturedly, throwing a mock-punch at Akihito's shoulder. "It's not nice to make fun of the rhythmically challenged!"

Akihito grinned and shouted, "Just do what I do!" 

Feeling the music, Akihito began to move, enjoying the freedom of both the dance and the evening itself. It had been too long since he'd done anything like this. He hoped Asami really was close to resolving the threat against him, or even better, that it all turned out to be nothing. It went against his nature to be so cautious, but he had promised himself he would do his best not to ever put Asami at risk again because of his own recklessness.

It wasn't _so_ bad, he supposed, having Asami look out for him. He sank deeper into the throbbing beat, his lithe form twisting and the thrum and excitement of the crowd feeding his own energy. On the periphery of his senses he was aware of some of the heated looks sent his way. They didn't phase him, but they did send his thoughts back to Asami. And now when his hips swayed they seemed to move to Asami's rhythm, the one he pounded into Akihito almost every night. 

The ache was back but he felt liquid with the alcohol and the dance, the music a throbbing accompaniment to the not unpleasant torment Asami had contrived. At least it bordered that nebulous territory where pleasure and pain merged, a place he'd explored often under Asami's knowing touches.

Lifting his arms above his head he glided and turned in place, not caring in the moment that the hem of his shirt rode up to expose the jeans that hugged with flattering snugness over the curve of his ass, nor how the tightness across the front of them surely made clear his state to any who happened to notice him. It was Asami's eyes that he was thinking of now. 

The music segued into a darker, driving beat and lights flashed erratically across the floor. He let his inhibitions fall away, the responsive surge of the crowd whipping everyone into a wild synergy of movement and erotic energy. Even Yoshida looked good under the snapshot effect of the strobing lights.

He shared an adrenaline-high smile with Takato and kept dancing, one song after the other until his shirt clung to him, the sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under each burst of light. Thirsty, he made his way to where his friends had decamped before him--a sweet VIP area on the second level with a crescent-shaped low couch and a row of low tables. 

Kou tossed him a bottle of water and Akihito drank it down in one go then sighed in satisfaction. The pretty girl was still snuggled up to Kou, and he leaned forward as his friend introduced her. In this more secluded area, he didn't have to raise his voice so loud to be heard, but it wasn't exactly quiet. He was content for the moment to sit back and watch his friends laugh and talk, their voices a muted hum beneath the music. 

He didn't notice the man dressed in one the club's unobtrusive, but well-cut, black bouncer uniforms until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He bent down and spoke close to Akihito's ear.

"Excuse me, Takaba-san. Could you please come with me?"

The guy knew his name. That meant he was probably sent by Asami. Akihito's brows drew together. "Is everything okay?" He wasn't too worried. Asami would have come himself or sent Suoh for him if there were anything serious going down. Besides, whether Asami said so or not, Akihito figured he had more than one man here tonight with the sole purpose of keeping an eye on him.

"Yes, I apologize, Takaba-san. I was meant to tell you that Asami-sama would like to speak to you for a moment. There's a private stairway in the back of this level. You'll be able to return to your friends momentarily."

Akihito snorted. Momentarily, right. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Asami had shown up, but he definitely couldn't say that he was unhappy about it. Just the anticipation of what Asami might do to him and the desperate desire to get that cage off his cock made Akihito smile brightly at his friends, waving off their concern. 

He did lean down in passing to speak to Takato. "No need to call the cops if I don't come back." 

Takato gave him a knowing smirk, but didn't make a fuss. He'd obviously had his own suspicions about who exactly was behind the evening. 

Flushing a little, but grinning, Akihito followed the man into a much quieter stairwell, somewhat surprised that they were heading up instead of down. He figured Asami would have the car waiting for him outside--the better to whisk him off to Asami's secret little sex room. Akihito wasn't sure if he should be relieved or even more nervous about what Asami had in store.

Before he could dwell on that for too long, he noticed that he couldn't hear the sound of music at all as he was led out into a plushly carpeted, narrow corridor. This part of the club must have heavy soundproofing. A frisson of unease curled up his spine.

"Um, does Asami have an office up here?"

The bouncer didn't look around. "Asami-sama doesn't have a permanent office here, but he uses the club manager's if he has need of one. He's waiting for you in one of the private observation rooms."

"Oh...okay."

Something definitely didn't feel right. But this was Asami's club. Asami knew he was here. Akihito took a deep breath and tried to settle his nerves. It didn't stop his eyes from narrowing, scoping out the bigger man in front of him and trying to identify any potential weaknesses or threats.

There wasn't much room to maneuver here in the hallway and no exits in sight, only the occasional door, and they were probably locked anyway. Still, Akihito had been in tight spots before, if that's what this was. His eyes sparked with an excitement he hadn't felt in a while.

It was almost a let down when the man stopped in front of a door that seemed identical to the ones they'd already passed. He unlocked it, a deferent smile on his lips as he bowed, arms at his sides. "Please enter, Takaba-san."

"Thanks." Akihito hesitated a moment, then looked into the room. It was dimly lit, like the rest of the club. With one last look at the bouncer, he stepped forward. The door shut behind him with a soft click. He could hear the music again, but muted, and through the enormous wall-sized window he could see the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor. The whole club spread out like a visual orgy in front of him. "Asa--"

His call was cut off as he was slammed against the thick glass with a painful thud. Shit. Oh shit. It _was_ a trap. He was _so_ stupid. He couldn't move no matter how he tried to thrash and squirm, and any attempt he made only resulted in a flare of pain that proved how futile his efforts were. 

He couldn't even turn his head to see his captor. Not again. _Fuck_. Asami was going to be so pissed.

It wasn't until one of the hands that held him began to move deliberately down the front of his body did he really start to panic. No fucking way. 

"Get your hands off me, asshole! I'm sorry you're so hard up you can't get dates the old fashioned way, but I'm not interested, so if you're going to kill me just go ahead and do it and leave my ass alone, you freaking pervert!"

Dark laughter made him freeze. "Oh, but I always like to play with my prey first."

"Asami?!" His heart sped up to an even more dizzying tempo. "You _bastard_!"

The low laugh came again, though the force pinning him to the wall didn't let up. Akihito turned his face, letting his cheek press against the cool pane. 

"Scared, Akihito?"

"You are seriously sick. Seriously."

"Just think of it as a lesson. You shouldn't have trusted that person so easily. He could have been anybody."

Akihito scoffed. "As if you weren't having me watched all night."

"That is true," Asami acknowledged, his voice slow and meditative. As he spoke, his knee slipped between Akihito's thighs, nudging his legs wider. Akihito swallowed a groan as his groin rubbed up against the wall of glass. "And you should be glad of it."

"What--what do you mean?" Akihito tried to concentrate on Asami's words, but it was hard when that hand was moving again, dipping into the hollow of his hip and traveling down beneath his waistband.

"You were being targeted tonight."

"What?!" Akihito tried to jerk away from the window, but Asami held him firmly against the glass, not letting him escape. "Here?!"

"Yes."

"You mean--did you _know_ that they would try something tonight?!"

"Yes."

"But why did--"

"Because here I could control the situation."

The cold calculation of the answer stunned Akihito. He stopped struggling, just trying to process the thought.

"So...there really was someone after me? It was a real threat?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!" Akihito's temper flared up. "How can you just--you should _tell_ me these things. Why do you have to treat me like I'm not capable of--"

"I've told you before," Asami cut in coldly. "I retaliate when someone crosses me. I protect what is mine."

Pissed, Akihito began struggling again and this time Asami allowed him to turn and face him, still trapped between the glass and Asami's body. "I can't believe you. You're so infuriating! Why can't you trust me a little!"

Asami's eyes narrowed, his hands coming up to press against the glass on either side of Akihito. "Did you really think that I would let my most precious possession out of my sight for one second under these circumstances? That I would allow for any risk that would impede my ability to protect you?"

The breath left Akihito at the utterance of those words. If not for the dark-edged smirk to cut the helpless rush of emotion the unabashed avowal summoned, and the rather insulting implication that Akihito was a risk to himself and Asami's machinations, Akihito might not have believed his ears. It certainly damped the burn of his anger and left him floundering for footing in the face of his lover's strange mood.

"I--I'm no one's possession." His weak retort was reflexive and without heat.

A smile like a knife-edge was the only response he got. But now, looking more closely at Asami, Akihito could see just how strange his mood was. Asami's eyes looked almost wild. He was so close, Akihito felt every breath Asami took and released fluttering against his skin. The tension in his body was more than tangible. He could smell it in the air, sense it in the fine hairs on his body that wouldn't lie down, feel it in the hard lines of muscle holding him against the glass. Asami looked...electrified somehow. Dangerous. Just what had happened tonight? What _might_ have happened?

Akihito swallowed. "Who--who was it? What did...what did you do to them?"

Fingers rested softly on his lips. "Don't worry about that now."

A line appeared between Akihito's eyes. "Asami--"

"We can talk about it later. Right now..." Asami bent to kiss him, just a soft glide of lips that instantly had Akihito aching for more. "Right now, think only of me."

Asami kissed him again, pulling him away from the wall and into the center of the room. His shirt was slowly unbuttoned and Asami bent his head to lick at the damp skin. 

"You taste like salt, but you're still so sweet."

The vibration of that heady voice against his flesh, it made Akihito shudder. These words Asami kept saying, throwing him off, making him dizzy. Would he ever understand just who he was?

"Dance for me, Akihito. I watched before--you out there in the crowd. You shone like a beacon. Will you do it now? Just for me?"

Akihito licked his lips, watching as Asami stepped slowly backward, seating himself on a low couch and fixing Akihito with a dark intense gaze that seemed to place him under a spell. It was the only reason he could think of that he did as he was asked. 

When he began to dance to the muted music, slowly, haltingly at first, he couldn't meet Asami's eyes. Instead, he closed his own remembering how all those dances down there on the floor _had_ been for Asami. When had he become like this? So lost in everything to do with that man? 

Gradually, the music got louder until the room thrummed with the beat of it. The knowledge of Asami's gaze weighed him down with delicious self-consciousness, and the bite of metal heated by his own burning flesh making him constantly feel the promise of Asami's touch. 

Fuck, he was dancing for Asami like some private harem boy. His friends, that bouncer, the rest of Asami's men, they all had some idea what was going on up here, and Akihito couldn't bring himself to care.

Oh God, he wanted it, that touch, _so much_. 

He gasped when he was embraced from behind, Asami moving with him to the heavy, driving rhythm. He would have given a startled laugh if he hadn't been so distracted by the proof of Asami's arousal pressing against him. Shit, Asami could really dance. It was something he had never even imagined before, but of course Asami would be as good at this as anything else. 

He'd taken his jacket off and only the fine, thin fabric of both their shirts separated him from the solid beat of Asami's heart. His own shirt was teased open, fingertips skimming over his nipples, down the ridges of his stomach. Then a hot hand slid between his legs, cupping him.

"How is it, Akihito?" Fuck. That intimate voice at his ear. "Right here. How does it feel?"

Akihito's eyes rolled back. "Unh..."

The hand flexed and Akihito's hips bucked.

"My brave boy. Bright enough to blind me." 

Teeth on his throat, his hair tugged back, and Akihito moaned. 

"So fearless. So innocent."

"Not innocent," he denied, his throat arched painfully as the pull increased and golden eyes locked onto his own. 

"You think you aren't. You think you know. You think you understand."

"Understand what?" Akihito whispered, but Asami seemed to hear him anyway.

"The world. The risks. My ways. My needs."

That velvet mouth on his swallowed Akihito's questions. The awkward angle made their kisses sloppy; drunken lust that left their lips wet and shiny. 

When the sharp pull in his scalp eased and Asami set him free, Akihito slowly turned to face him. "What are they then? Your needs?"

Seeming to ignore the question, Asami prowled forward with measured steps, eyes darkened with intent. Matching his pace, Akihito backed away in sync with him, adrenaline spiking in his belly at the dark smile Asami granted him. 

"You think it's the thrill of the hunt I'm after?" Mouth dry, Akihito stayed mute even when he felt the cold glass at his back. His chin lifted as Asami loomed over him. "I do enjoy it." 

Akihito's wrists were slowly lifted and pressed to the window over his head. A look sufficed to make Akihito understand he had better keep them there. "But nothing less than total conquest will satisfy me, my sweet Akihito."

"What--what does that mean?"

"It's very simple." Asami's fingers flicked open the button of Akihito's jeans. "I want you to fully understand." His jeans were gently pulled away. "That I will possess every part you." Asami's hand caressed metal and flesh. "Your body." His head bent. "Your heart." The kiss moved to his lips, hovering. "Your soul." He exhaled a slow breath. "Your life."

There was nothing pinning him to the glass but Asami's mouth on his, but Akihito stayed where he was as if heavy chains bound him there. The devouring kiss seemed to suck all the oxygen from his lungs, blood rolling like thunder in his ears. A soft moan caught in his throat when Asami drew away. 

"It's too late for you. I won't ever let you out." The low voice sounded almost cold now, tinged with a hint of icy anger that seemed turned inward--distant--but that wild, dangerous light was flickering in Asami's eyes, and finally Akihito realized with a sharp and painful flutter within his chest that Asami had been _afraid_. _Was_ afraid. For him. _Of_ him? Or of losing him? The shock of it made Akihito's heart wallop erratically.

The thin line between their masks and the raw truth drove like a keen blade right through him, and something inside him shattered and reformed. Maybe he didn't know just who Asami was, but he knew enough for now.

His hands came off the glass and threaded through Asami's hair, drawing his face close. "That's right. Because I belong to you."

A deep, deep pleasure bloomed, seeing Asami's eyes widen even as implacable fingers dug bruises into Akihito's hips. "Akihito." Those penetrating eyes scorched him, but Akihito didn't flinch. "Akihito," Asami said again, all coldness burnt away in the face of the raw openness that Asami revealed now. "Love only me." Akihito read those proud, wild eyes. _Don't ever leave_.

Oh God, if he ever wanted revenge this was the chance to take it. Had _anyone_ ever witnessed such excruciating vulnerability from Asami? His heart throbbed in sympathy. Akihito smiled. Huge and brilliant, it made Asami's eyes widen again. 

"Stupid. It's like you said, I'll always come flying back to you."

He was picked up and braced against the window, his legs going around Asami's waist and his tongue seemingly taking up permanent residence in Asami's mouth. He grunted as Asami sucked harder--always always the pain to cut the pleasure. Just as he liked it. He moaned, head thrown back as they surfaced for air. 

"Take me to bed, Asami. Mess me up all night long."

"Silly boy." A laugh rumbled against the tender skin of his throat. "I'll take you right here."

He lost track of the ways Asami had him before the damned cock cage finally came off. The alcohol still in his blood, the strobing lights and the heavy slam of the industrial music melded with the acts they performed that night. He was half-crazed with need, wild and begging and willing to do anything. 

In the morning, only surreal fragments remained: On his knees before Asami on the couch. Asami's cock in his mouth. Asami's hand in his hair, stroking gently while Akihito stayed still, only that and the thick heat of Asami's flesh and the throbbing ache between his own legs grounding him in the reality of the night. His legs over Asami's shoulders, drenched in sweat as Asami drove into him deeper and harder, locked in a kiss that never seemed to end. Riding Asami for all he was worth, doing as he pleased while Asami watched him with burning, worshipping eyes. Spread cross-like against the window, naked and marked and sweaty, Asami taking him with slow, measured thrusts that didn't match the music but sent helpless shudders through his exhausted body. Being carried to a soft couch and cleaned with a cool, soothing cloth, wrapped up in strong arms that should have felt too tight. Warm. Safe.

Later when they were back at the penthouse and Akihito had showered and soaked in the tub to ease some of his aches, a thought struck him.

"So I get why you set things up the way you did, but why in the world did you make me wear that _thing_ all night if you knew what was going to happen?!"

"Because it pleased me to see you in it. To know that you were wearing it to please me. It's your fault for provoking me and for looking so delectable in such things. Besides, you seemed to really enjoy it, didn't you? You shouldn't seduce me with those needy looks of yours if you don't want me to follow through. Regardless, I had every intention of playing with you that night."

Akihito growled. Asami really was unbelievable. Seducing _him_?! But more importantly... "What if I'd been kidnapped and they'd found that on me?! What if I'd been killed and my _parents_ had to go down to the police station and identify my body and saw it?! I would _never_ have forgiven you!"

Asami's shoulders shook with laughter.

"Whatever. Laugh now, but I'm never indulging your perverted fantasies ever again!"

The door to what Akihito liked to think of his room slammed shut behind him. After a moment the door handle rattled.

Fwhoot. Fwhoot. 

Not again!

"The door wasn't even locked, you crazy bastard!"

Asami smiled, tossing his gun on the bedside table. "I know, but I really enjoy doing that."

Akihito collapsed back on the bed with a resigned groan, not even resisting as Asami slid next to him and pulled him on top of his chest. At least the jerk didn't seem like he was going to make any moves toward his ass at the moment. He'd better not anyway. Akihito yawned, turning into a more comfortable position, his knee slipping between Asami's legs. When Asami's hand slipped down to rest on the curve of his ass, Akihito just smiled and drifted off to sleep.


	3. Feel It in My Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's pov of the events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people mentioned that they wouldn't mind seeing this from Asami's POV, so I finally ended up writing it. This is really, truly the final chapter. I was inspired by Feel it in My Bones by Tegan and Sara. It's a great song! So thanks to those who encouraged me to write this. :)
> 
> references to explicit violence and gore (nothing _too_ graphic)

No one could have known from the impassive expression that overlaid that coldly sculpted face the force of sweeping fury that ignited every base instinct held within the man known as Asami Ryuichi. He spoke into the phone, quietly, calmly, his words terse and efficient. Only the slightest drawing together of his brows indicated anything other than perfect composure. 

He let it burn, welcoming the cleansing heat that served to consume a dirtier, chilling emotion that sent an icy pick into his gut and clouded his perceptions with useless and irrational thoughts. His fingers curled around his smoking cigarette, and he resisted the impulse to crush the slender cylinder between them. His informant answered his questions with equally to the point efficiency, the low voice urgent and authoritative.

Once again, Asami had cause to appreciate his foresight in creating and placing moles within a variety of potentially volatile situations. It wasn't so difficult to obtain unswerving loyalty from certain men, not when you unearthed their true motivations, not when you could do them a service that anyone else could not or would not do. He had chosen carefully and well. Most of them, he never called on except for routine exchanges of information. But now and then, his careful maneuverings, such as those in Hong Kong, were more than rewarded.

Kirishima was already on full alert by the time Asami ended the call, exuding a tension that expressed both expectance and competence. His loyalty and dedication were unquestioned, his mind as sharp as any Asami had known, and his ties to Asami went far back. His solid back would handle the extra burden about to be placed on it, and there would be no complaints.

"Call Suoh in."

Kirishima's murmured acquiescence barely registered as Asami leaned back in his chair, his mind working to analyze the situation at hand with precise and intuitive analysis. He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. his eyes narrowing to slits as the beginnings of a plan began to form. 

"Asami-sama, Suoh is on his way."

Asami pulled out his phone and, with a few curt words, discovered the current whereabouts of Takaba Akihito. He stood, crushing the cigarette into pulp before buttoning his suit jacket. Logically, he knew he had more time. The boy was safe for now. Regardless, he would see empirical proof of that before those roused base instincts would be soothed for the time being.

* * *

Akihito's surprise at the sudden appearance of Asami at his stakeout was exceeded only by his bluster.

"What the hell, Asami! You can't just show up like this!" His lapels were gripped as Akihito tried to tug him past a row of dumpsters into an alleyway between a disreputable-looking pachinko parlor and a redolent curry shop. "You're gonna blow my cover!"

Asami indulged him by taking two steps in that direction while gazing down at Akihito's frantic expression, currently a mixture of anger and surprise. He ignored the surge of his own emotions those blazing eyes evoked.

"Hiding behind a garbage receptacle is your cover?"

"Listen, jerk, I'm working here! I've got a target to capture." He brandished his camera like a weapon, though Asami knew Akihito would sooner cut off his own hand than risk damaging one of his precious cameras. "And if you don't get lost right n--"

"Would your target be Hanazawa Jun by any chance? Because he won't be showing up tonight."

"What?" Akihito's eyes widened. "How did you know about--" He growled. "Do you have something to do with him not showing up?"

"I have better things to do with my time than worrying about a Diet member frequenting an establishment that caters to men with a predilection for underage girls. I've already got enough of that sort in my pocket."

"Then how do you know he won't show up?" Akihito challenged.

"I contacted your magazine to find out what you were working on tonight, then I used my sources to determine the whereabouts of your so-called target. I was informed he was called into an emergency meeting likely to go on well into the morning."

That caused Akihito to deflate slightly, wariness and curiosity warring in the flicker of his eyes. "Don't be contacting my work out of the blue like that!" When Asami didn't respond Akihito asked grudgingly, "So why are you here anyway?"

The answer prickled across his tongue and pressed up behind his closed lips, but it wasn't released, efficiently contained by the guard of teeth that pressed together with the slightest more force than necessary. His jaw felt tight, and his fingers itched to show Akihito the real truth. The desire to bruise and ravage beat strongly in his pulse, and he had to slide his itching fingers into the pockets of his slacks.

If he touched Akihito now, he wasn't sure he would be successful, despite their surroundings, in reining in the impulse to prove to himself--to Akihito--the physical reality of his possession of the boy. The relief at seeing Akihito well and brash and every bit his normal self, though he had known he would find him so, served to drain his control. His desire to utterly consume and simultaneously preserve Akihito's rich and unabashed vibrancy was dangerously powerful. It was those conflicting desires that drove him constantly, it seemed, these days. 

Only a tenuous hold on his vaunted discipline allowed him to step away from Akihito, whose expression changed to one of confusion. He followed, as Asami knew he would, like a little duckling that had imprinted on the first thing he saw out of his egg.

"Hey! I asked you a question."

"Come," Asami said with a nonchalance sure to irritate his hot-headed follower. "I'm taking you to dinner."

He could imagine the confusion on Akihito's face, the softening of his eyes within that searching look, the tiny uplift of his lips that he would try so hard to hide, lashing out to cover up his own discomfiting feelings. A small smile crossed his own lips as Akihito retorted, "Did you ever think about _asking_? Anyway, it's ten o'clock. Why are you out of work so early?"

Of course, Akihito still trotted obediently behind him. The boy never would refuse food. 

"I set my own hours," Asami stated with cool condescension. 

"Big shot crime lord," Akihito mumbled under his breath. "Hmph, so do I."

Asami resisted the urge to chuckle, but not the urge to finally shove the boy up against the side of the limo where Kirishima was already standing with the door open. He didn't savage those pale, soft lips that parted in a startled gasp. Not yet. His eyes bore into Akihito's while the boy stared back half in wonder and half with a brimming cockiness, always ready to boil over into a fight. 

The sum of all of Akihito's parts added up to answer that Asami didn't fully understand. He only knew that it was indispensable to his current reality, that he was responsible for the cocky little punk before him who had no idea, even after everything, how fragile his bright existence in the world really was. 

No matter. He would take responsibility. For this boy, he always would.

* * *

Only the barest edge of his lust had been slaked by that short encounter with Akihito in the hidden room. Just thinking of Akihito bound and needy and writhing at his touch, creamy skin and dark leather contrasting beautifully while Akihito willingly, more or less, submitted to his erotic control made Asami harden again, even as Akihito tossed a final saucy look over his shoulder.

"Don't wait up, old man!"

That couldn't go unpunished, and he enjoyed the shocked gasp (the boy never did learn) as Akihito's back hit the door and Asami's mouth covered his. He didn't let him go until Akihito's lips were swollen and shiny and red, and he looked kissed within an inch of his life. Heat glazing his eyes, Akihito stared dazedly up at him, and Asami's cock throbbed in response. 

He knew he could take Akihito right now, up against the door, with his men waiting on the outside, probably hearing everything, and Akihito knowing that, but he just wouldn't care, or, rather, it wouldn't matter if he did, because in this thing, they were the same--the angles and curves of their desire fitting into a seamless, preordained pattern. But he wouldn't. He would bide his time. However...

Tugging Akihito's shirt to the side, Asami bit into the exposed flesh above his collar bone, eliciting a sharp cry from Akihito. He wasn't gentle, needing to feel the grind of flesh between his teeth, but he licked away the pain and sucked a moan free from Akihito's lips. Slender fingers twined into Asami's hair while Akihito rocked against the thigh Asami slipped between his legs. Akihito's hands only reluctantly pulled free as Asami moved away. 

Akihito was a picture of seduction, all flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, quick, pink tongue darting out to wet that biteable lower lip. If he only knew the blatant invitation that he was, in essence, offering up. His eyes were bright with innocent lust, practically begging Asami to take and fuck and pleasure him until he couldn't remember his own name.

His hot little lover who would go to the grave rather than admit out loud to even half of that. Asami's lips curled as he ruthlessly clamped down on his own arousal.

"Have fun, kid."

The smirk jolted Akihito back into action. His buttons were so much fun to press. Glaring all the while, Akihito tugged his collar over the fresh mark, knowing it for the brand it was. The door slammed, and Asami ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing out what Akihito had ruffled.

He released a low laugh. How flat his days must have been before this. He could hardly recall now what it had been like before Akihito had zoomed into his life like an annoying little mosquito that should have been swatted on sight. 

But he hadn't done that. He'd indulged him like no one else. And, yes, he'd hurt him too, taught him a lesson that would have made so many crumble, but not Akihito. Akihito was a relentless force of nature, full of life and recklessness and optimism.

His smile slowly faded to be replaced with cool purpose. Asami knew better than anyone how swiftly and easily even that kind of vitality could be snuffed out. His focus tonight was to eliminate one such threat to it. 

From his pocket, he withdrew the tracking device that received the signals coming from the various transmitters placed on Akihito: the one around the neck that he knew about, and the ones in his phone and sneakers that he didn't. Asami was more than certain those would come in handy in the future. 

The cursor on the screen flashed reassuringly at him. He could admit, in the furthest reaches of his mind, that it was a security blanket meant only to soothe himself. He doubted the heads of all nations combined had better protection than his Akihito this evening. No, the outcome of his plan was a foregone conclusion, but Asami didn't get where he was by not planning for all contingencies.

The device went back into his pocket, and Asami turned his mind to the task at hand as he opened the door to his men. They bowed, Asami's cold smile awakening an answering sort of ruthlessness in their own eyes and bearing. They were, after all, what they were. They followed him after him without a word.

* * *

The smell of blood was thick in the air. It was only a man's nose, broken and bleeding profusely; an opening sally--crude, but satisfying. It did something to Asami, invigorated him. He was careful, though, mostly, when placing his punches to keep to the soft places: deep to the gut, over the kidneys. The evidence of his devotion to Akihito's cause was better left hidden from the one his exertions were meant to protect. Akihito would never know what happened in this room. 

His kicks had freer rein. They connected with both flesh and bone, and he loosed the primal animal within himself; the one so many failed to see beneath his veneer of urbanity and wealth and looks. An electric charge built in the air, between him and his men as they moved in wordless accord.

When the thuds and crunches began to lose their charm, his men bound the two men into more accessible positions. Suoh, in shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, his forearms bulging, hefted them up and secured their chained wrists to a hanging link.

"Warmup's over." Asami's smile stirred even his own ranks to avid, restless expectancy. "Now we can have some fun." 

He walked to a precisely laid out collection of keen-edged implements--Kirishima's work no doubt--and picked up the scalpel. The shiny surface of its blade reflected the light from the overhead fluorescents as Asami turned it in his fingers. 

"Not many people know this about me," Asami offered conversationally, stepping close to the first man, the one whose orders set this in motion, who began to gibber and beg with pathetic incoherence. "But my mother always hoped I would become a doctor."

The blade rested against the man's cheekbone, a thin line of blood beginning to flow and run down the man's face, dripping onto his shoulder from his jaw line. 

"Though my interests and talents went in other directions, at University I took a course in anatomy purely for...personal edification. Human dissection is a fascinating study."

Asami raised his voice to be heard over the increased sobbing of the man before him,"But then, you know all about that, don't you?" His gaze went to the man hanging next to his broken companion. The assassin stared back at him, eyes still bright with malice and fight. Good. He would be saved for last, and given the pleasure of Asami's full and creative abilities.

Perhaps it was irrational, the special hatred that ignited Asami's blood when his eyes lit on the one who had intended to kill his lover. He was, after all, a hired gun, so to speak. However, his notoriety preceded him. And though he would have died in any case, the fact that he had, as a matter of course, made detailed plans for Asami's own bright Akihito, had documented them with such explicit detail, creating what he intended to become a grisly memorial of his planned conquest, mixing Akihito's likeness in a range of pictures--happy, laughing, working, playing--with descriptions of the sort that made even Asami and his most hardened men experience an innate soul-deep disgust and taint that couldn't be entirely erased from conscious thought, had sealed the _path_ to his fate. 

Asami didn't enjoy torture. Killing was something he resorted to as a last resort--usually. But unavoidable situations would arise. His mind flashed back to the traitor in Feilong's employ, and he recalled the profound release emptying his gun into that pathetic lackey had given him. That had merely been collateral damage. 

This, though--he would enjoy this.

Later, hours maybe, it was a few murmured words from Kirishima that brought him out of the blood haze. It only took the one word to recall him back to the plane of existence where the world, after a shower and change of clothes, would welcome his presence with open arms. Akihito. Yes, he would see him now. It was his reward.

A widening circle of sticky red radiating out from the latest wound he had personally inflicted sluggishly halted just before it reached the toes of his shoes. The metallic tang of it couldn't quite hide the underlying pungent stench of urine and shit.

Despite the hours he and his men had been in this room with these two things that once were, in appearance at least, human, Asami's own blood still sang. But it was enough. 

Two bodies moved feebly. Like giant grubs wriggling blindly in the dirt, they wallowed in their own filth.

Asami held out a hand, and a gun was pressed into his palm. Two shots rang out. Blood and sweat came away as he wiped his forehead, then dropped the gun, cleaners already at work. The remains would be strategically placed as a warning to others.

He moved, going through the motions with Kirishima's assistance, on autopilot: showered, refreshed, dressed to kill, always. His mouth curved at the private joke, his blood still beating out a rhythm that drove him toward his boy. His lover. Akihito. Safe once again. Always his. Only his.

* * *

His palm against the glass that vibrated with the muted percussion of the club speakers and the incessant pounding of the crowd on the polished surface of the main floor, Asami eyes roved over the sea of bodies. It wasn't hard to find his target. The crowd eddied and swirled, but Asami could see only _him_ , his unmistakable spark and energy calling to Asami with irresistible force. 

The boy's flushed face shone with exertion and something like ecstasy. What was he thinking of with that look on his face? It was entirely Akihito's own fault that his time with his friends would be cut short. His erotic expression combined with those supple, suggestive movements were a red cape before Asami, and without the slightest guilt he spoke into his phone, not taking his eyes once from the effortless grace of Akihito's dance.

Such a talent--a pleasure--he had overlooked, but he would have it in front of him now. Akihito would dance for him, show only him that face of longing and desire. 

Transfixed, he watched as the music segued into another beat. Akihito rolled his head back and breathed deep, his damp shirt pulled away from that lithe, well-defined torso and then popping back to cling lovingly to slick skin. Asami could almost taste the salt he knew he would lick from the boy soon. 

The sight of Akihito's rounded ass moving within the confines of tight denim as he ran up the stairs to join his friends reminded Asami of what Akihito was wearing for him that night. A slow smirk spread over his face, and he wondered how Akihito was bearing his fate. 

His ever present instinct to possess flared hotter remembering the way Akihito had looked in leather and metal, the steel rings caging his cock as Akihito took to the new sensation with all the protests and fascinated lust that each new sexual experience always evoked in him; Akihito's mouth saying one thing, his eyes and his body telling an entirely different story. 

Kirishima entered the room behind him. Asami kept his eyes on Akihito, who laughed with his friends across the span of the club, until Kirishima was beside him. Their eyes met and Kirishima nodded.

"It is done. Suoh is returning now."

"Good."

"And someone has been dispatched to retrieve him."

They both turned to watch Akihito look up as the messenger appeared. After a moment, Akihito rose and followed after him with apparent trust.

"Sometimes, I wonder if he has _any_ survival instincts." His remark was flippant, a whistling in the dark, warding off the dark truth: everything could have played out in so many different ways, none of them good. They both understood this. It was part and parcel of their world, and it was a truth he hoped Akihito never fully understood. No matter what, he knew that he would never give Akihito up. He wouldn't hate himself for that. It was too late anyway. They were both in too deep and the only choice was to descend together.

A small smile passed Kirishima's lips. "He _has_ proven resourceful on occasion."

"Yes. And some say God watches out for fools, drunks, and children."

They shared an amused glance, and Asami nodded once. "You've done good work, and you've borne the brunt of the increased responsibilities these past several weeks. I think you can safely take the rest of the night off considering we've enough men here to take over a small country."

"If you need--"

"No. Go home."

Kirishima bowed. "Goodnight, Asami-sama."

He was almost to the door when Asami's voice forestalled him. 

"Kirishima. Thank you."

He felt the surprise, but only a second's silence ticked by before Kirishima replied with sincere graciousness. "Asami-sama, it was my pleasure."

* * *

When Asami finally allowed Akihito release for the first time that night, he was desperate, exhausted, wound to a high-tension pitch of blind need that ripped raw sounds from his throat as his come splattered onto glass. It was a cruel and exquisite reward for his humbling of Asami's pride, the surpassing of his expectations. Asami shuddered himself, spilling into Akihito with an upthrust that lifted him to his toes. 

The desire, the physical heat, hadn't surprised him. But the way Akihito had seemed to look within his soul--not to the center, that was too dark and feral a place for even Akihito to enter, but near--and then had offered up his acceptance, with words and without, he had earned the prolonged erotic torture that Asami doled out with infinite patience and skill. 

_I belong to you._

By his own admission, Akihito was his. Asami thrust again just to hear Akihito moan, holding the weakened boy against the cold press of glass with his own body, his heart beating against Akihito's back. Akihito's pulse fluttered like a caged butterfly beneath his lips as he pressed them to the curve of Akihito's throat, insatiably craving the physical proof of his being.

But this wasn't nearly enough, not even close. If the boy was so willing to flay him open with his looks and words and unspoken promises then Asami would repay the favor. He would mar with his teeth and fingers that exquisitely fine skin that just begged to be bruised. He would choke that sweet mouth with poisonous kisses. He would fill his tight hole with his own length and seed, measuring their commitment in each deliberate thrust while he watched Akihito come undone. 

He would take Akihito's admission and use it just as he knew Akihito had always feared he would--to bind the boy to him tighter still, to ensure that he could never leave. He would have all of him. He would imprint his mark down to the molecular level until Akihito very cells vibrated with the truth of his possession. 

If Akihito knew the real truth of what he was, of what he was capable of, Asami had no doubt that he would flee, and with few regrets. But that could never happen. He wouldn't allow it. He would protect Akihito from the world, and from himself.

His hands strayed tenderly up Akihito's stomach, tracing up the fine line of hair that led to his navel, one fingertip dipping in. A soft gasp from Akihito as his body jerked, ticklish there, and Asami smiled tenderly against the back of his neck. 

He would give him everything, anything, even the illusion of freedom that he needed.


End file.
